


Oh Glory

by Shiropropaganda



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Consensual, Glory Hole, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Seriously PWP, Sex Club, Sex Work, Voyeurism, implied kinks, kink club, there is zero plot in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 02:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiropropaganda/pseuds/Shiropropaganda
Summary: Keith ends up at a kink club and gets to try something he's always wanted to.Shiro has a new part time job to distract him from his break-up.Things... overlap.IT'S A GLORY HOLE FIC OKAY





	Oh Glory

**Author's Note:**

> This AU takes place in a magical land where sex work is legal, valid, and valued.

The first time Keith goes to the club, it’s Pidge’s birthday.

He isn’t really paying a whole ton of attention, he just nods and says he’ll do absolutely anything she asks, mostly because the less he knows about where they’re going the less likely he is to bail on the night all together. He knows this, and Pidge knows it too, which is why his brain suddenly lights up with red flags when she turns to him at the door.

“This… might not be your thing, but I really wanna check it out.”

The club looks innocent enough, standard dark doorway leading into a basement. The security check looks… more intense than usual but with the current state of things lately… he doesn’t think a whole lot of it.

It isn’t until the guards strap a band around his wrist, and his phone and wallet have been dropped in a locker with Pidge’s that he starts getting suspicious. The last bouncer hands each of them a soft black bag, and Pidge puts her hand on his arm.

“You take the locker key,” she says, “if you want to leave, don’t worry about finding me, just take off and I’ll get my phone from you tomorrow.”

She stalks through the doorway and Keith finally peeks into the bag.

It’s full of condoms, dental dams, black rubber gloves, and sachets of lube.

Oh.  
Right.  
He’s in a sex club.

 

The fact that he’s surprised at all is what is the most surprising to him. Pidge has an active lifestyle outside of the knowledge of their primary friend group, and the only reason Keith knows about it at all is because they’ve been roommates for four years and he’s found her muzzles and strap-on on along with various other odds and ends by accident.

They’ve had a few very detailed conversations about it, and she’s mentioned a new club opening more than once in the last few weeks, so he really should have known.

Keith doesn’t consider himself to be a prude, but he does consider himself to be  _ private _ , but more than that he’s  _ curious _ , so he steps through the doorway. Pidge is waiting for him on the other side and the way she beams at him is what keeps him from changing his mind.

 

They’re in a well-lit room, and the door closes behind Keith with a mechanical click. A woman stands at the front of the room, her silver hair tied back and her eyes a piercing blue.

“Welcome to Club Sincline,” she says cooly, addressing the group, “if you are here, it means you have registered in our system as a first time guest. So, welcome, and please be patient while we go over some ground rules for your experience this evening.

Our facility contains three levels for your enjoyment. The first level is for performance and dancing, the next floor down is for viewing and semi-public shows, and the lowest level is for more... private play-- this level is accessible by reservation or invitation only.”

Keith is pretty sure that’s flowery code for  _ sex dungeon _ .

“Your wristbands will allow you access to each area, as well as enable you to purchase refreshments in our cooldown and aftercare stations. Alcohol and drug use is not permitted anywhere on premises, but water is available for free in these areas.

As a first time guest, you are required to use the provided protection, and are able to purchase more if needed. If you enjoy your time with us, you can register for VIP access which will require testing. However, some performers require protection to be used at all times, even with a VIP wristband, and failure to comply with their requests will result in legal action. Every performer has easy access to a panic button and swift action will be taken should it be required. Consent of our performers and our clients alike are our highest priority. 

Entrance into the facility acts as informed consent to these rules and restrictions. We hope you have a pleasurable experience this evening.”

Pidge has a hold on his sleeve as they enter into a sprawling ballroom. There are two performers doing aerial silks on stage, one slender and obvious showman, and the other pure muscle with broad shoulders and the kind of grace Keith could probably watch for hours… if Pidge wasn’t bouncing on the soles of her feet beside him.

“I want to go down a level,” Pidge says, “if you want to stay here…”

Keith shakes his head.

The second level is sectioned off into two wings. One wing is for group viewing and participation, and the other is for more one-on-one experiences. Pidge eyes him for a 

moment and then nudges him to the right. There are holes in the wall at eye level in the first section, and they peep for a while as a threesome fucks on the other side. Further down there are some rooms with various role plays listed and a waiting-list scanner. The last section gives Keith pause for a moment, but Pidge is already turning back to scan her wristband on a waiting list, and then on her tiptoes at peep holes before she can notice his pink cheeks.

 

He leans against the wall beside her, peeking in himself. There are three women inside, one tall and broad, holding a smaller woman between her legs. Her head tilts back against the first woman’s shoulder, dark blue hair sticking to her forehead as third woman, lean with a high ponytail, kneels between her legs, face pressed into her cunt.

It’s not really Keith’s thing, but he can appreciate their chemistry. There’s a performer list on a sleek screen above the row of peepholes, and he likes that there’s a mix of different types of people to watch. 

A light flashes on Pidge’s wristband, and she looks up at him sheepishly.

“I thought the wait would be longer…”

“Go ahead,” he says with a nudge, “it’s your birthday.”

Once she’s out of sight, he lets his eyes linger on the far part of the hallway. He’s just… curious. Very curious. And Pidge is occupied for a while so…

He steels himself for a moment and strides over to door, pushing it open and stepping inside. He finds himself in a waiting room with plush chairs. An attendant scans his wristband and hands him a tablet.

Keith raises a brow and taps his preferences. He hits the  _ Submit _ button on the form, and hands the tablet back to the attendant. After a moment a soft bell chimes.

“You’re all set in stall number seven.”

Keith walks into the main area. It looks a bit like a hotel room hallway, but the doors are much closer together. He stops outside door number seven, unsure of what to do. 

Should he knock? 

The door clicks open as he reaches out. The room is small and well lit with a soft couch. There’s a cot covered with thick padding and a high stool along the side as well.

There are multiple slots carved into the wall in front of him, one round one in the center, and other larger ones higher and lower up. Those appear to be closed off at the moment, but Keith can imagine what they’re for.

“Good evening,” comes a low voice.

“Uh… hi,” Keith replies, face burning and shoving his hands into his pockets. It suddenly dawns on  him that he’s in a club about to get down with a stranger and he’s not sure if he wants to run, or shove his dick in the hole as quickly as possible.

“First time?” the voice asks, and Keith responds with a grunt.

“I’m Kuro, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Let’s just review your form so we’re both on the same page, alright?”

The man’s voice is warm and deep, almost familiar, and it makes Keith’s heart thud a bit faster.

“I’ll be referring to you as  _ K _ , correct?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Keith replies, shuffling a bit closer.

“Good. Alright it looks like, you want to receive manual stimulation and oral sex, you don’t want to be seen or see me, but touching is my preference, and your safe word is  _ red _ . Is this all correct?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Cool,” Kuro says like he does this everyday, and then Keith realizes, of course he does, “You’ll need to use a condom,” he says, “do you have one left in your gratis bag?”

“Oh yeah, I haven’t even used any or anything.” He fumbles for the bag and pulls out a condom before dropping it on the couch and stepping up to the wall.

The man chuckles, and Keith’s knees go a bit weak at the sound, he sounds just like--

“I’m your first stop?” he sounds pleased,  _ god _ Keith wants him to continue sounding pleased, “I’ll be sure to give you an excellent first impression.”

Keith lets out a nervous laugh and he hears the scrape of a bolt as one of the side panels slides open.

“Can I touch you, K?” Kuro asks, and Keith’s a bit embarrassed by his cracked  _ yeah _ in reply.

Kuro’s hand is wide and strong and a solid palm brushes against the front of Keith’s jeans. He’s half-hard from the guy’s voice already and lets out a sharp breath when he squeezes his cock through his pants.

“Ah, maybe not as shy as I thought,” Kuro hums.

“No,” Keith breathes, stepping forward, “I just, don’t normally--”

He groans mid sentence as the pressure increases.

“You have a sexy voice,” the other man says.

Kuro’s voice sounds like everything Keith’s ever dreamed of, and he can’t help himself as he rolls his hips against the other man’s palm.

“You too, fuck.”

“You wanna take those pants off? I’d love to feel you in my hand. And then maybe if you ask nicely in my mouth too.”

Keith all but rips the button of his jeans open.

“Help me put the condom on you?” Kuro asks, fingertips under Keith’s shirt rubbing circles against his abdomen.

He bites his lip as he tears the foil, starting the latex on his length before guiding Kuro’s wrist down until his fingers can work it the rest of the way down.

“Your cock feels nice,” Kuro murmurs, pulling his hand back a moment before returning with a glistening palm full of lube.

Keith’s head drops back and for the first time since he’s entered the room he notices the mirror on the ceiling. He watches his reflection--lips bitten and hair flopping back as he thrusts his hips, pushing his cock through a tight fist.

“Come closer?” Kuro’s voice pulls him back to reality, and he lets the other man guide him until his hips are flush to the wall, his dick through the opening.

There’s another sound of a bolt and the second opening at arm level opens. Keith grabs onto each side as the slick hand twists and a thumb presses against the underside of his cock. The club has to have some kind of special condom patent because Keith can feel  _ everything _ , including when Kuro gets close, panting hot against his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes, fingers tightening.

Kuro chuckles, rubbing his second hand against Keith’s balls and making him whine. His second hand is gloved and the latex catches against his skin in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant. He feels breath there too and bites his lip, trying to keep the--

“ _ Please, _ ” from spilling out.

“Already?” Kuro asks, but his tone isn’t teasing, instead he adjusts his grip and pulls Keith off twice in two firm strokes before letting go.

“You’re so good at this,” Keith breathes, pressing his forehead against the wall, “and it’s been a while.”

“Tell me what you want,” the other man says, and Keith jerks because his lips are so close that he can feel them against his length as he speaks.

Keith sputters, cheeks flushed.

“I already… the form…”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

Keith feels something wet and hot rub against his head before vanishing and his hips jerk in response, trying to fuck straight through the wall.

“I want your mouth,” Keith grumbles, face hot.

“Hmm?”

“I…” 

“Tell me, please? I promise I want what you want.”

Keith’s head spins and his gut clenches at the words, and the request makes his last defense drop.

“I want you to suck my dick,” he breathes, louder, moaning when Kuro’s gloved hand squeezes his balls in reward, “I want to hear the wet sound it makes. I want you to moan around my cock. I want you to get me so sloppy that you’re drooling on the floor while you swallow around me.”

Kuro’s groan from the other side of the wall sounds too intense to be for show, and the next thing Keith knows his cock is wrapped in wet heat. His head drops back, fingernails all but digging into the wood where he’s holding on for dear life. The other man is  _ good-- _ bobbing lightly before sucking him in deep, hollowing his cheeks as he pulls back. He turns his head, letting Keith’s cock press into his cheek before letting his jaw go slack, taking him in with just soft pressure from his tongue and the heat of his mouth.

Keith is so out of his head he doesn’t realize he’s moaning until Kuro pulls back.

“Fuck you sound so hot,” the other man breathes before tonguing at his balls as he jerks Keith’s cock in his hand, “your voice makes me so fucking hard.”

Keith shudders at that, and then startles for a moment when something touches his hand. It’s Kuro’s gloved fingers, and they tug at his wrist pulling his hand inside and against his head.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he says, voice already wrecked, “I’ll knock against the wall if I want you to stop. If you ignore me I’ll hit the panic button, but I don’t think you will.”

“I won’t,” Keith breathes, “I’ll be good.”

He can feel the other man’s smile against the head of his cock.

“I know you will. You can touch me with the other hand too,” he murmurs before dropping his mouth open, letting Keith rub against his tongue with a soft moan. 

He pulls his hips back from the wall, taking a moment to step out of his pants so he can widen his stance. He encourages the other man closer by pressing on the back of his head, stomach flipping when he can hear the shuffle of cloth against the floor as Kuro crawls toward the opening.

“You’re such a tease,” he breathes as his hips press forward, rubbing against the other man’s hot tongue, “gonna shut you up for a bit.”

Kuro moans in reply as Keith’s second hand buries in his hair.

“Suck,” he says lowly, toes curling as the other man obeys.

He’s slow to start, cradling the other man’s head as he pushes his hips in slow shallow thrusts. The first low moan around his cock breaks him, and his fingers twine in the longer hair on the other man’s head and he fucks forward. Kuro relaxes before swallowing around him, throat squeezing deliciously.

“Not gonna last long,” Keith pants, pulling back to let the other man tongue at his head before thrusting in deep again.

There’s a knock against the wall, and he pulls back, opening his hands to allow Kuro some space.

“Can I touch myself, K?” he asks, voice so deep and scratchy that Keith almost comes at the sound, “Please, I’m so fucking hard, I’m making a fucking mess of my pants.”

“Yes,” Keith breathes, biting his lip and trying not to drool at the sound of a zipper and then the thud of a belt hitting the floor.

Kuro groans behind the wall and Keith lets his hands settle back into the other man’s hair, stroking the soft locks at the top and rubbing the buzz at the back. He can hear the wet smack of skin against skin and he smirks, pressing against the back of Kuro’s neck with light pressure.

“My cock is so good you can’t keep your hands to yourself?” he asks.

“I’ve never wanted to choke on a dick so much in my life,” the other man pants, breath hot against him.

“You want some more?” Keith has no idea where this confidence is coming from, but Kuro’s choked  _ please  _ sizzles up his spine.

Kuro takes him back into his mouth with no further prompting, burying Keith’s length into his cheek again, but also tugging at his wrist and pressing it against the bulge, letting Keith rub his palm in slow circles.

“You’re fucking filthy,” he groans, praising before tightening his free hand and moving his hips until he can press back down the other man’s throat.

Kuro is moaning non stop around him now, swallowing dutifully when Keith presses deep, and laving his tongue sloppily when he pulls back.

Keith can feel the orgasm building in the base of his stomach, but it’s not until his fingers slip back, rubbing the short hairs on Kuro’s head, his mind suddenly picturing the face of someone with silver locks and storm grey eyes, that he comes with a growl, pressing his hips tight against the wall and holding the other man’s head still as he continues to suck and moan around his length.

He pulls back after a moment, afraid he’d hurt the other man but Kuro continues moaning, a slick sound filling the room and making Keith’s dick twitch despite his exhaustion. His knees are weak and he lets himself drop onto the stool nearby.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Kuro finally breathes, shifting around behind the wall. the openings close with a quick snap.

“Thank you,” Keith breathes, suddenly awkward and self conscious as he pulls off the condom and drops it in a bin.

“That was fucking hot,” Kuro replies, voice raspy.

Keith’s traitorous mind insists he’s paid to say that, but his body is too warm and satisfied to invest in it.

“Can I stay a minute?” Keith asks cautiously, he doesn’t trust his legs to support him just yet but he doesn’t want to make the other man feel strange, having a client just hanging out.

“Yeah,” comes the reply, and then there’s a black bag being held out through the hole.

Keith opens it to find some snacks and water, and hums his appreciation.

“This isn’t really a room that qualifies for intense aftercare,” Kuro explains, “if you need more attention for that it’s two doors down, this is all I’m really permitted to give you.”

“It’s perfect,” Keith assures him, draining the entire bottle in one go and munching on some of the almonds in the bag.

After a moment, he stands, pulling on his jeans.

“Uh… thanks again,” he says, and hears Kuro’s chuckle.

“Enjoy your evening.”

Keith collects his and Pidge’s things from the locker, and heads home hoping she had as much fun as he did.

  
  


Apparently Pidge had a bit too much fun, because she doesn’t come back home until the next evening, pink-cheeked and happy. She’s wearing someone else’s clothes and graping a folder with photocopies of her course books, but she just smiles dreamily at Keith and Shiro where they’re kicked back watching a shitty martial arts film that Keith is  _ very _ invested in.

Keith knows he could ask her for details, that she wouldn’t mind spilling about her sexcapades in front of Shiro, who would politely listen even as his eyes grew more and more scandalized, but he holds his tongue and she heads to her room with a wave. 

Shiro nudges his thigh with a foot and smiles at him, and Keith isn’t sure why such a simple gesture makes his heart drop into his stomach, but it does. 

  
  


They go back to the club the following Wednesday because Pidge got an invite to the sex dungeon. She tells him this with pride flashing the red matte key card, fully expecting him to roll his eyes, but Keith casually mentions he wouldn’t mind going back, and now here they are. 

They get separate lockers this time, and Pidge queues up near the med check station, having paid for VIP access. Keith gives her a wave and takes the black bag the bouncer hands him, bee-lining to the stairs and heading for that same door.

The attendant scans him in, and asks him to confirm his stored information. When his eyes find the special requests section, he bites his lip and taps in four letters.

When he leaves the club later, its with finger shaped bruises on his ass and a sleek matte black card with a barcode on it-- a fastpass for Kuro.

“I only work Mondays and Wednesdays,” he’d said, passing the card through the hole, “They’ll scan you and then the card and you and I will have a consulting period if you have any changes to your form.”

 

A month later, Keith steps up to the med check, and Kuro fingers his ass until he comes in the other man’s mouth.

  
  
“You seem more relaxed lately,” Shiro says, his head perched on Keith’s shoulder. 

Their Thursday night ritual of watching bad films has somehow shifted into bad films and light snuggling, but Keith can’t say he minds.

“You are too,” he points out, avoiding the question.

“My new part time job is fun,” Shiro shrugs, “it’s helped me clear my head.”

Right.

Adam’s visa had run out and he’d decided to return home. He asked Shiro to come with him, to  _ marry  _ him-- something they’d both wanted a year ago, but then Shiro had gotten an offer from the university that would allow him full access to the control room at future launches and--

Shiro’s metal fingers brush against the back of Keith’s hand, tugging a bit until they’re palm to palm.

“I’m glad you found an outlet, whatever it is,” he says sincerely, smiling when Keith squeezes his hand and looks back at the television with pink cheeks.

“K, can I touch myself?” Kuro’s voice is wrecked, and Keith’s knees are weak to the sound.

“Can I suck your cock instead?” he asks, face heating up.

It’s something they’ve discussed before, in their consultations, it’s marked on his form now, but there’s just not been as good of a time as now.

“Fuck, yes.”

Keith drops to his knees and moans when the length comes through the hole. Kuro is thick and leaking at the head.

“Gorgeous,” Keith breathes, lapping the pearl of wetness from the tip and running his tongue along the thick vein on the underside of the other man’s dick.

“Can I touch you?” that deep voice goes dark, gasping when he gives a short suck and then wets his lips, pressing them teasingly against the other man’s balls.

“Yes, and you can pull my hair if you want,” he replies, pleased when Kuro’s left tangles into his locks.

The other man still wears a glove on his right hand, explained it once as a circulation problem, and it smooths against the back of his head.

Keith bobs his head, alternating between swallowing and stroking around the other man’s cock and lets out a sharp moan when Kuro tugs on his hair for the first time.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he breathes, letting both hands bury deep into the long hair on the back of Keith’s head and use his grip to move him.

Keith knocks once, after a particular deep thrust, gasping for air as the other man strokes his cheek.

“Sorry, I’ll be more careful,” he promises but Keith is already diving back in, hands against Kuro’s ass, pulling him forward.

He doesn’t mean to, they haven’t discussed it, but on one thrust his fingertips slip close to the cleft of Kuro’s ass and the other man comes with a shout.

“I didn’t… I’m sorry, I should have asked,” he says, guilt clawing up, but Kuro’s hand has already reached through the side opening, tugging at his hair again.

“It’s fine, it was fucking hot, let me touch you.”

Kuro jerks him off with a skill that is equal parts maddeningly good and too rough. After a moment he gestures for Keith to come forward and laps at his cock until it’s slick enough for his hand to move smoothly.

“K,” the other man says, twisting his hand beautifully, “I want you to come all over me.”

Keith moans his interest, but Kuro keeps talking.

“I want to walk out of here tonight smelling like you,” he pauses to take Keith deep to the root, bobbing three times before pulling off.

“Next week, I want you to meet me in a room on the third level, and fuck me into the floor.”

Keith inhales sharply, head going light.

“And when you’re done with me, I’ll eat your ass and fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days.”

He comes hard and fast, gasping for air as Kuro milks him, the other man leans forward sliding his dick through his own mess before releasing him.

He takes the aftercare bag with trembling fingers.

“I’m…” Kuro’s voice sounds hesitant, “My last day is next Wednesday.”

“Oh,” Keith says-- he’s unsure if he’s sad for his dick or relieved for his wallet, but says nothing else.

“This job has been fun, but I have other... priorities that I want to be able to give all my attention to. So…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Keith replies.

Even the way Kuro chuckles makes him think of Shiro, and he feels guilt twist deep in his gut.

“Anyway, I’d like to book that room as like, a last day,” he can tell Kuro feels awkward and has no idea how to fix that.

“Is it like a group thing or…?”

“No, just you and me. I’m okay with a blindfold if that would make you feel more comfortable, but I thought it’d be nice to spend my last shift with the client who’s given me awesome orgasms the last few months.”

“Okay,” Keith says, cheeks pink.

Kuro sounds pleased from where he hums behind the wall and he holds out another matte card, a red one.

Their fingers brush as Keith takes it.

He leaves the club feeling warm to his toes.

 

It’s 5 AM when his phone goes off.

Keith rolls over and blinks at it groggily and then it stops. He begins relaxing back into the sheets when it sounds off again, bugging him until he groans and reaches for it.

“Mmm yeah?”

“Keith? I’m sorry, Keith can I come over?”

He sits up in bed, stomach dropping. Shiro’s voice is rough, and he can hear someone else in the background, an accented-woman’s voice that he recognizes but can’t place, asking for directions and if he’d rather stay at her home.

“Shiro,” Keith breathes, “Of course you can come here, you never have to ask, should I come get you?”

“No, my coworker is driving me, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

“Keith? Do you have ice?”

 

They do have ice, it turns out, remaining from the week Pidge swore she’d stop eating junk food and started making smoothies. Smoothies turned into homemade peanut butter ice cream after the first few days and the promise of better health has been all but forgotten. The cubes have frozen into one huge mass that Keith chips away at, filling a bundle of cloth and tying it with one of Pidge’s scattered elastics.

Shiro lets him press the ice pack to his eye gently, his arm coming around Keith’s waist to tug him into his lap.

It looks horrible, but so does his lip, split and shining with antiseptic cream.

Keith doesn’t ask what happened. Giving comfort isn’t in his area of expertise, but he lets Shiro curl closer. He draws back after a moment, frowning. Shiro’s shirt smells… odd. Familiar but strange, kind of dirty but also kind of hot, and he can’t put his finger on why.

Shiro’s eyes have drooped closed, and Keith can’t stand it, wrapping his free hand around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. His brain seems to be on auto-pilot, because the next thing he knows he’s shifted the ice and his lips are pressing gently against cold skin. Shiro takes a sharp intake of breath but doesn’t move, so Keith shifts and presses a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. His heart is pounding and he doesn’t know why he’s doing this, but he can’t stop touching Shiro, burying his face into the other man’s neck to hide his burning face.

“Keith,” Shiro sounds hesitant, which… makes sense, but the older man doesn’t push him away, or acknowledge the gesture at all. Instead he says, “My part time job? I um--” 

He sits back and Shiro looks embarrassed, which is somehow worse than him showing up with a black eye and a fat lip. Keith can’t stand it.

“Shiro, you can tell me anything,” he says carefully, hoping that it’s enough.

It seems to help, because now he finds himself pinned by Shiro’s grey eyes and flushed cheeks.

“I’ve been working at a club for the past few months. I started as a way to distract myself from Adam, and I built a solid base of regulars. I had a lot of fun working there, but I gave my notice a few weeks ago and tonight I let the regulars know, and one guy flew off the handle. I’ve talked to the police and went to the hospital and he’s at the jail now, but yeah. That’s. That’s what happened.”

Shiro shifts for a moment, taking the ice pack with his prosthetic when Keith catches the faint smell of latex.

_ Click _ .

“Shiro… what club is it?”

“Uh… you know the one Pidge goes to a lot lately?”

_ Click. _

“Sincline.”

Everything falls into place at once, the smell of latex and… his own  _ come  _ dried on the older man’s skin under his shirt, the way Kuro’s voice and hair felt so familiar…

Shiro and Kuro.   
White and Black.

Only Shiro could have picked a name so fucking obvious, and only Keith could be too obtuse to get it.

 

His own face flushes and his fingers dig into the fabric of his sleep pants.

“I didn’t tell you because I was trying to figure stuff out,” Shiro continues, his pinkie finger brushes against Keith’s cautiously, “I didn’t tell you because I’m quitting, because things make more sense now.”

“What things?” Keith’s jaw aches from how hard he’s clenching it, his head is spinning and none of this makes any sense-- except that it makes  _ perfect _ sense.

“There’s a regular,” Shiro say carefully, “god this sounds so fucked up.”

“Tell me,” Keith urges, taking a deep breath and letting his pinkie link over Shiro’s.

“There’s a regular that started coming to the club, and god Keith he sounded just like you. He make me feel so comfortable and good and it was so easy to close my eyes and pretend it was you, and I just. Wanted it to be you. I wanted to wait until after my last day to tell you this, but I’m in love with you and I can’t stop thinking about you, and I hope that I’m not ruining anything.”

Keith walks away.

 

In retrospect, it probably didn’t look the best to Shiro, but he had to slip away for a moment, if only to dig something out of his room.

He sinks to his knees on the floor in front of Shiro and places the items in his lap.    
First, the black gratis bag he’d kept to stash all the unused items from his visits.    
Then the original orange wristband.    
The matte black access card.    
The black VIP wristband.  
The matte red invitation card.

Shiro’s fingertips tremble when he reaches for him, and Keith presses a kiss to the palm of his hand.

“I wanted it to be you, too,” he breathes against Shiro’s skin.

Shiro is silent for a long moment, and then he’s laughing, hauling Keith up from the floor into his lap, nose rubbing against his cheek over and over.

“What kind of cruel irony,” he murmurs into Keith’s hair, “all this time we’ve been doing all those things together, and now I can’t even kiss you because my lip is busted open.”

Keith tugs on his chin for a moment, coaxing Shiro’s jaw to drop open before leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his upper lip, careful not to brush the split skin on the bottom.

“I don’t mind waiting a bit longer,” he murmurs.

  
Given everything they’d done in the past few months, it should have felt strange to fall asleep in the same bed in such a chaste way, but when Keith wakes up and presses a kiss to the older man’s shoulder, spooning in closer in the morning light, it’s easier than breathing.

And when Pidge swings his bedroom door open to complain about her Master’s course and then promptly drops her mug and sputters at the sight of them in bed together… that’s pretty great too.

  
Shiro’s boss gives him his last two days off and a generous check as a parting gift-- along with a signed document stating he would cover all legal and medical fees. He also gave him a matte white card, allowing him and a partner access to the restricted level whenever they felt like dropping in. He’d held the card delicately between two fingers and quirked his eyebrow at Keith. 

He’s sure they’ll take advantage of that the moment Shiro’s stitches come out.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed it, Lance and Hunk are doing the aerial silks in the first club scene. The idea of aerial performer Hunk makes me way too excited. And Lance... it's canon!
> 
> scream at me on tumblr  
> @shiropropaganda


End file.
